


While there's life there's hope

by IzzBlack



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzBlack/pseuds/IzzBlack
Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid was facing a dilemma: should he intervene? Wouldn't he make things worse?He stared once again at the boy, who was moving a small red toy car back and forward, his eyes lost in the distance.The FBI agent chuckled darkly - Could it get any worse than this?





	While there's life there's hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Good "whatever time of day you are reading this"  
> This is the first work I post on this website, and actually the first not in my native language (Portuguese), so I am a little bit insecure about the quality of my writing, thinking of that I asked for help and LittleSweetCheeks was very kind in offering to beta-read this little piece, without them I probably would have never posted it, so once again thank you for your kindness to a stranger online!

 

**While there's life there's hope**

 

Doctor Spencer Reid was facing a dilemma: Should he intervene? Wouldn't he make things worse?

He stared once again at the boy, who was moving a small red toy car back and forth, his eyes lost in the distance.

The FBI agent chuckled darkly _Could it get any worse than this?_ He asked himself, Hotch’s words to J.J. coming back to him. “He just doesn’t sleep. I don’t know what to do, he will keep going until he’s exhausted.”

Taking a deep breath he moved in the direction of the office, knocking lightly at the door frame, the sound was not enough to take Jack out of his apathy. Hesitating, he continued into the room, just as he got to the couch the child startled, looking at him with big brown eyes.

Trying his most welcoming smile, the one usually reserved to the fragile victims encountered in his work, he addressed the boy. “Hey, Jack. Do you remember me? I'm Spencer Reid, I work with your father.”

Jack nodded and with a small voice answered. “Yes, you are the doctor, the one who knows a lot about everything. That's what daddy says.”

The child's description of him evoked a smile on the man and even a little blush. “Exactly. May I sit and wait for your father with you?”

Once again Jack nodded, and with his approval, Spencer placed himself beside him on the large couch.

“I believe your father's meeting may still take a while.” the doctor noticed the boy's shoulders get even lower, something he didn't think was even possible. “You are probably tired of waiting by now, aren't you?” A shy smile graced the young face as if agreeing.  “Myself? I like to read to pass time without getting bored, and I was just thinking about going home and revisiting one of my favorite books. Do you like to read?” He asked adding a hopeful tone at the end of the sentence.

Jack bit his bottom lip and averted his eyes, looking downwards. “I am not really good. Lifting his eyes he continued. But I liked when my mo…”Jack paused and once again averted his look.

“Your mom.” The agent was facing, once again, the stare of familiar brown eyes.  “Did she use to read to you?” a silent nod was his answer. Smiling, he continued  “My mother liked to read me stories too. The book I told you about? The one I intended to read later? It is one of her favorites.” Leaning in closer to Jack, Spencer asked in a lower voice. “How about we start it together? Just until your father's meeting is over?” facing the uncertain expression the doctor added quickly. “Just the beginning, if you don't like it, we can think about something else.” He was met with silence. Fumbling for words, Spencer twisted his fingers. “It's... It is a great story! An adventure with wizards, elves.” Still, no interest. “And even dragons!” That caused a reaction.  “Do you like dragons?”

With twinkling eyes, Jack nodded rapidly.

“Well, this story has a great dragon guarding a treasure and heroes who are trying to defeat him. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes please!” finally sounding a little excited!

With a big smile, Spencer got up and turn to Jack.“Then, let's set the mood. My mom used to say that a great book can only be truly appreciated with the right setting.”

“Appreciated?” the child repeated slowly.

Turning on the lamp beside the couch and the one at Hotch's desk he answered. “Yes, it means "enjoyed".”

Finally, after turning off the main light above the room he returned to the couch. Smiling at the boy he toed his shoes off and pointed to the little sneakers, which surprisingly enough only differentiated from his in color (Spencer's were purple, Jack's were blue) and size. With an encouraging nod, the blue Converses joined the purple ones on the floor. Taking the afghan from the couch and spreading it over their laps, the doctor placed his feet on the coffee table and crossed his ankles.“Are you ready to start?”

Taking his eyes from the combination of a green and blue striped sock and a solid deep purple one Jack looked at Spencer's face and then his lap. “But, what about the book?”

With a sheepish smile, the agent told the child. “You see Jack, my brain, it works differently than others. I have an easier time remembering things. So when I read something, well, I never forget it, that is how I help your father fight the bad guys.” The boy looked at him with the same expression he faced every day at work when Hotch encountered a puzzle he couldn't crack. “It means that I can tell you this story without needing the book, word for word just from my memory.”

Now the expression changed from curiosity to perplexity and incredulity.

“It's true! Why don't you relax and let me prove it.” Jack's uncertainty seemed to draw confidence in Spencer and a need to prove himself, with a cheeky wink he passed an arm around the boy resting his hand on his shoulder. “You see, in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell.” like his mother before him, he made himself shudder with a disgusted expression. “Nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that, my dear Jack, that means comfort.”

“What is a hobbit, Dr. Reid?” interrupted the boy, with an intrigued expression.

“Just relax and listen, everything will be explained in time.” the doctor squeezed the boy's shoulder reassuringly. “It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with paneled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats. Because, you see, the hobbit was fond of visitors.”

The story continued, and with every paragraph, Jack seemed to relax more and more. During the brief description of the Grey Wizard, Spencer suggested to the boy. “You can close your eyes if you want, so you can imagine this old man better. You see, he will be important to the story too.”

The boy, who was already resting his head on the agent's side, closed his eyes as suggested, and so Spencer continued the masterful tale.

\----

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner rushed in the direction of the Behavior Analysis floor. The meeting with the Deputy Director was unexpectedly long. He could only imagine how angry Jack was, the boy having been kept waiting for over two hours.

Finally inside the elevator, he tapped his foot in an unusual display of emotion from the agent known for his poker face. Leaving the elevator he engaged in a brisk walk to his office. Ascending the steps two at a time, the scene he encountered was very different from the one he had envisioned. Different enough to make him stop just at the door and stare.

Spencer Reid was sitting on his office's couch, sock-clad feet crossed over his coffee table. Even more surprising was his son, Jack. His head was supported at Reid's lap, the boy sound-asleep while his agent ran his fingers through his son's hair.

Hotch couldn't believe, the boy who refused to sleep until near exhaustion, whom he had encountered in the middle of the night hugging his knees at the living room couch for weeks, was sleeping with a peaceful expression on his face. More than that, using the man he so deeply admired as a pillow. And he thought Spencer's ability to unknowingly making him fall in love again was the young genius greatest magic trick.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah! That is it for now. I do have more of this story in my head, and I will probably get to writing it, but it will take me a while.  
> Please let me know what you think of it, and any constructive criticism is more than welcome.


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